


Dying Rain

by ThePeaPodinthePumpkinPie



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Female Ichigo, Teenage Toshiro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-01 21:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8638144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePeaPodinthePumpkinPie/pseuds/ThePeaPodinthePumpkinPie
Summary: Sometimes we need each other to make the rain go away.  FemIchigo.  Manga based, last arc skipped.





	1. Chapter 1

1.

Byakuya knelt beside his dying wife’s bed.

Papers lay scattered around her. Hisana was a poet, but she had become too weak to write and had just shouted, shoving her papers away and scattering them across the floor in frustration. Byakuya and several servants had come running, alarmed, and when Byakuya had seen Hisana near tears, he had straightened, expressionless, and ordered most of the servants away.

“You are too sick,” he told her soothingly. “You will get better. You must not think of it.”

Hisana laughed bitterly. “We both know I am dying.” Her voice was hoarse.

He bit back shouts. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. But no. Despair was not befitting of a noble.

She lay back against the pillows, pale, sweaty, and clammy, her eyes distant and glassy. “I am sorry, Byakuya. It seems all I have ever caused you is trouble. You married me, a commoner... I know how important Soul Society nobility is to you. And to your family.”

“You know you have brought me nothing but happiness,” said Byakuya, frowning - worried, despite himself.

Hisana didn’t seem to hear him. She stared at the far wall, as if seeing things he could not, her voice growing ever more distant. “I brought despair to you... And I abandoned my sister in the Rukongai. Perhaps I deserve to go this way.”

He paused, and then told her that was nonsense and tucked the covers in tighter around her by himself. It was a civilian move, debasing himself, but he briefly enjoyed the illusion that he was doing something about this problem. That he could do something about this problem.

But later, after her death, as he stood gazing quietly at her grave, her words would come back to haunt him: “Perhaps I deserve to go this way.”

He had never had that experience - of feeling so guilty that it seemed to you that you deserved death. And he was a man - a warrior - older, now. A clan leader, heading all his other family members. What could drive a young woman, a bright, vibrant young woman, to feel that way and never tell a soul?

He turned away to begin the search - the search to find and adopt Hisana’s sister.

-

“There is no other way around it, Matsumoto-fukutaicho. Your Captain, Shiba Isshin, is a traitor. He has deserted the forces. He is dead to us.”

“As it should be,” came Kuchiki Byakuya’s voice, cold and disdainful - he always had been a stickler for noble tradition.

Young Hitsugaya Toshiro stood outside the meeting hall, listening to the words, the echoing pronouncement from the Commander, his fists clenched in helpless anger. A deserter. His Captain. It seemed too bizarre to be true, but it had to be. That was where all the evidence pointed.

Shiba-taicho had been a lot of things - flirtatious, irresponsible, and goofy being among them - but Toshiro had never seen him as a traitor. 

He supposed he was only a Third Seat. Matsumoto had been closer to Taicho as his Vice Captain. But it still seemed odd to him.

Toshiro had always had an innate trust in Shiba-taicho. He had believed in him when no one else did. When Shiba-taicho had requested going off on a solo mission, leaving his status and paperwork behind him, it had seemed out of place. But Toshiro had been the once to convince Matsumoto not to stop their Captain. He had guessed that Taicho was in the middle of something and knew there was nothing anyone else could do about it. 

He had trusted that Taicho would tell them if something was truly wrong, if there was something they could do.

And now the betrayal. That was how it felt, despite his best efforts. Like a personal betrayal. It was up to him now, Toshiro realized. Up to him to protect his makeshift family - his squad. Just as it had been up to him to protect his sick grandmother until his high reiatsu levels had driven him out and into the Academy.

The meeting was released and as Captains and Vice Captains spilled out, Matsumoto approached him. But so did Aizen-taicho, Fifth Division Captain. 

“Kuchiki-taicho had such cruel words,” he observed, smiling. “This must be very hard for you, the young prodigy. Third Seat Hitsugaya. Famous for entering the Academy two years after your sister, Hinamori Momo, and then finishing before her.”

Toshiro lifted his chin, defiant. “Shiba Isshin is a traitor,” he said, his former loyalty still unused to the words. “My squad does not need to worry. I will become Captain.”

Aizen raised his eyebrows, friendly. “Perhaps you are just as frigid in your own way as Kuchiki-taicho. Fortunately for the two of you,” he said wryly, brushing past them, “coldness is highly prized within the Shinigami forces.”

-

Isshin stood outside the hospital doors, pacing.

The whole odd story flew through his mind. He still couldn’t believe sometimes that it had actually happened. He had been saved from a particularly powerful Hollow one day by a female surviving Quincy Archer - a beautiful, young one - during a journey to the living world. She had been injured during the fight, but successfully purged the beast. She seemed fine. Her name was Masaki.

She had done what he could not. She impressed him.

He went back to the Soul Society, but he could not stop thinking about the girl. He was not sure why. It was not the typical infatuation he felt for passing flings. He could be a romantic and say it was her wavy, messy curls, her crescent moon shaped amber brown eyes, and her high cheekbones, the light in her eyes when she fought. He could be a realist and say he was worried about the Hollow blow she had sustained and felt he owed her a debt he had not yet repaid. He could show unusual depth and say he was impressed by any Quincy who could see past their resentment long enough to save a Shinigami Captain - and ask for nothing in return.

Or he could be honest and say it was just some bizarre intuition.

He had requested a solo away mission in the living world - not knowing it would be the last time he would ever see the Soul Society, his clan, or his squad - and he went down to the living world to see her again, alone. He felt he had to do it alone. It was his debt, and in any case, she had purged a Hollow. Quincy were no longer allowed to do that. Technically, she should be punished.

The thing was, she had done it to save him.

He came back and found her in a horrifying Hollowification process from the wound, being watched over by another Quincy family called the Ishida clan and by the traitorous mad scientist Urahara Kisuke. There were so many things wrong with that he couldn’t even begin, but he caught on one part - that he could save Masaki by tying his soul to hers. He could repay her.

The thing was, they would both have to give up their powers in the process. He could never go back home.

He had agreed. He had taken a gigai as a physical living form. Masaki had been scheduled to marry into the Ishida clan and produce more Quincy babies, but instead both she and Isshin went to college in the living world and they started dating. He studied to be a doctor - a kind of living world healer. It was the closest he could get to saving people while remaining with Masaki. They got married; he opened a medical practice.

He heard from Urahara’s contacts that he had been deemed a traitor. His position refilled by Third Seat Hitsugaya and his clan banished from the Seireitei city. A traitor. He supposed he was.

But he had no regrets. As strange as it sounded, marriage and a family suited him. He was happy in the living world - happy in a way he’d never thought he would be. He didn’t need other women around Masaki. She was tough and kind, playful and too much to handle and with an excellent sense of humor.

She made him a better person. No one in the Soul Society had done that.

And now he was standing outside the hospital doors, awaiting the announcement - the hope - of the successful birth of their child. He’d gone to Ishida’s practice and he’d hated every second of it, but honestly, he was shaky and elated and nervous as hell and he didn’t trust himself to deliver a baby on his own right now. Certainly not his.

The baby would have all its own powers, half Shinigami and half Quincy, though he hoped to raise it in as normal a living-world environment as possible, protect it. He and Masaki had decided on that point already. What he was doing was, in the grand scheme of things, unforgivable, but at this point Isshin had broken every law imaginable and fuck it he wanted a kid.

The child would be a girl, a living girl. They’d always wanted a daughter. They had gotten lucky on their first try and had already decided to go no farther.

“Isshin.” He turned around to find Ishida Ryuuken standing there. “The birth was successful. Your wife and your daughter are both fine.”

He relaxed, a huge balloon of relief and elation and disbelief filling him. “Ishida, I swear, if you’ve done anything to them, I’ll -!”

He sprinted into the hospital room, and paused in the doorway. A bright, amazed smile came over his face. Masaki was sitting up in bed, cheerful, a baby girl in a pink blanket wailing away in her arms.

“Come on,” said Masaki, grinning. “Come meet your kid.”

“... Okay,” he said, dazed. He went over to the hospital bed and looked down into the baby’s face. “... God I hope she looks like you,” were the first words out of his mouth.

Masaki laughed. Motherhood made her positively glow. “Surely there must be some good-looking people in your family!”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Isshin smirked when Masaki laughed again.

“... So,” said Masaki. “The name. We decided on Ichigo, right?”

That was right. Surname Kurosaki; they’d taken on Masaki’s family’s name. She had been, at birth, Kurosaki Masaki.

“Yes,” said Isshin, smiling down into his daughter’s face. “Kurosaki Ichigo.”

-

It had been months. Toshiro stared in the mirror. He was taller; he looked visibly older. He should be pleased. And yet - rapid physical growth in spirits was only brought on by great stress.

There was a reason why he looked like a teenager now, more fitting into his Captain’s cloak.

He thought of his sister as he remembered her - Bed Wetter Momo, smiling with her pigtails, ever the bookworm. Then he thought of her as a fukutaicho, her tight bun still behind her head, dead and ripped open on the hospital lab table.

Unohana’s distant voice came to him. “She died protecting someone in her division from the Hollow. She threw her body in front of theirs, her arms out... Your sister was very brave, Captain Hitsugaya.” The last words had been said gently, but they had not helped.

“... Taicho,” Matsumoto had said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He should have been there. It was irrational, but the thought remained. He should have been there to save his sister.

He left to go visit his grandmother again. If possible, the grief had been even harder on her, and it just made him feel worse. He had to help somebody, he thought.

-

Ichigo and Masaki sat beside each other in their apartment, quiet. Ichigo was ten years old.

Ichigo’s first years had been a kind of dream. She looked like her mother, her orange hair messy, wavy curls, her face high cheekbones, her eyes amber brown crescent moons. Pigtailed and over-enthusiastic, she’d started out as an early bookworm and also as a writer.

Ichigo’s father Isshin, a doctor, had once told her, “Your name’s most common meaning is ‘strawberry.’ But it also has another meaning: ‘to protect one thing.’ Your name is given to one who protects.”

Ichigo had decided she wanted to protect her parents, and from there the sphere of people she’d wanted to protect had grown. She started taking karate classes, though she was soft and cried easily and was horrible at them. She’d met a tomboyish girl named Tatsuki in karate class, and Tatsuki had become her best friend, defending her from bullies.

But Ichigo had another special ability, one no one outside her family knew about - she could see ghosts.

She couldn’t see the dead as well as she could see the living, and that led to her father’s death.

Ichigo’s father owned a hospital clinic, and he worked a lot. Masaki was usually the one to walk Ichigo home from karate classes, but one day she had urged Isshin, “Go pick up your daughter. Spend some time with your only child.”

Isshin had walked Ichigo home in the rain, joking around and making her laugh. It had been raining for days, and the nearby river had swelled. Ichigo looked over, and saw a girl standing on the edge of the river. Ichigo thought she was about to jump. She ran across the street full of cars to pull the girl away from the river - Isshin shouted and ran after her - something hit Ichigo from behind and she blacked out.

She woke up with her father’s dead face staring into hers. He’d pushed her across the road in time and covered her body with his own. He was dead, his back was ripped open and bleeding. The girl was gone - no one else had seen her; she’d been a ghost, all along.

Ichigo was nine years old.

She’d been torn away from her father’s body, crying and screaming, and after that everything was a bit of a blur. Her father’s funeral. She and her mother moving into an apartment. Her mother becoming a nurse, a single mom. Her mother putting up a shrine for Isshin, complete with photograph, in their living room.

Ichigo and Masaki sat beside each other now on Ichigo’s bed.

“... I’m sorry,” said Masaki quietly, somber, still dressed in black. “I shouldn’t have made him go. It should have been me. It’s my fault.” Her voice broke a little in grief.

“No, Mommy!” Ichigo looked around in alarm. “It’s my fault!” She looked down, tears in her eyes. “If I hadn’t run after the ghost, he’d still be alive -”

“Oh, honey, you couldn’t tell - you were just trying to help -”

“But it’s true!” Ichigo looked up, big-eyed, and glared at her Mom fiercely. Her mother fell silent in surprise. Ichigo stood up. “There’s no more time for being weak,” she said fiercely, resolve filling her. “No time for tears. From now on, I’m going to help you. No one around me is going to die again.”

Ichigo never lost a karate match again. 

She formed a secret daydream, hidden in the back of her mind. Internalizing her guilt over her father’s death as her own fault, she imagined dying for someone else. Sacrificing her own life for theirs. It would, she thought, make up for what she had done.

Ichigo still knew nothing about death beyond ghosts at all. Who her father had been... she had no idea.

-

Years later, Aizen realized he had to come to a decision, and quickly.

He had to send someone to intervene with Kurosaki Ichigo. He was curious about her and wanted to test her for himself. It should, he thought, be a man. People were always more likely to be protective of the opposite sex, particularly if the opposite sex was a pretty young woman as Kurosaki Ichigo was. So, a man.

But in order for powers to transfer over from a man to a woman, two men had to be present for the transfer. It was backwards, as it didn’t work the same the other way around, but there you had it. Two male Shinigami had to offer their powers of their own free will to Kurosaki Ichigo. 

So who to send?

He came upon the idea, and a cruel smile filled his face. There were two obvious choices. It was why he’d sent his Vice Captain, Hinamori, off to die. The answer was perfect.

Kurosaki Ichigo was a bookworm, like the late Hinamori Momo, and a poet, like the late Kuchiki Hisana. It was obvious from anyone who took a glance in her and her mother’s apartment, or her bedroom. There were pictures on the walls of a young, smiling, and pigtailed Ichigo, reminiscent of photographs of a young Hinamori Momo. The two would guess from the shrine that her father had been Shiba Isshin, and it would affect them both in different ways - Byakuya because she was nobility, Toshiro because she was his ex Captain’s daughter.

But then there was Ichigo herself. She was beautiful, surely, tall and willowy like her mother, but she was more than that. She was protective, and she still carried a kind of guilt, a desperation, to die for another. The minute she found out a Hollow was attacking people she knew to get to her, she wouldn’t be able to help but to jump in front of them and let it take her instead.

Her guilt would affect Byakuya. Her protective instincts would affect Toshiro. They would jump in front of her in turn - and the rest would happen naturally, on its own.

He would get the delicious opportunity to ruin two of Seireitei’s most stiff and important Captains, and he would be able to stir the fascinating Kurosaki Ichigo to action as a Shinigami. Now... a couple of years before the whole thing was due to occur... he had to start planting evidence. A trail of larger and larger Hollows leading toward Karakura District, Tokyo.

Large enough for two Captains to be sent by the soon-to-be-dead “Central 46” to investigate.

Then all that was left was to send a Hollow after Kurosaki Ichigo, and the pawns in his game would do the rest for him. Kurosaki Ichigo - he had been watching her well. She would get in the way of their Hollow destruction. He knew it.

Those two didn’t know what they were in for. She was a true fighter, a most headstrong girl. Sitting on the sidelines, for her... was not an option. And it had not been since he’d sent the Hollow Grand Fisher after her and her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, we learn a little more about Ichigo in the intervening years between Isshin's death and the start of canon.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

“You know, Tatsuki, if you make fun of that kid one more time, he might actually hit you,” said Ichigo in amusement as she and her best friend Tatsuki were walking toward their middle school together. They had become even closer after Tatsuki had helped Ichigo through her father’s death.

“Eh, I could take him,” said Tatsuki casually. She had a short, shaggy, messy pixie cut of black hair, and wore dark eyeliner, cargo pants, tees, and arm bracelets - when she wasn’t wearing her uniform. She was still fierce, tomboyish, and protective.

Ichigo was different. They both had black belts in karate, but Ichigo wore nice pencil skirts and blouses, her messy hair up in an elegant bun. She was quieter, more cerebral and organized, though - like Tatsuki - she was tough and she used her heart, her passion, to make decisions far more often than she used her head.

Ichigo, too, could be fierce. Just in a different way. Tatsuki had made it her goal in life to protect Ichigo; Ichigo had made it her goal in life to show Tatsuki that she didn’t need protection.

“So what is it for lunch today - literature or poem?” Tatsuki began, but just then a large gang of boys with dyed hair and piercings stepped in front of them. They were smirking, in Ichigo’s direction.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a Yankee,” said the leader. “Great ass. How about we take you someplace else?”

Ichigo sighed. “Idiots,” she said, deadpan. “My orange hair color is natural. That aside, do I look like a gangster to you?”

They flushed, glaring and scowling; the leader made to step forward - and Tatsuki got in his way. “Huh-uh. Nobody sexually harasses my best friend,” she said, getting into a karate stance, giving the “come here” motion. “I’ll take you on.”

They howled with laughter. “One girl? Easy.” And they charged. Tatsuki flew out in a flurry of punches and kicks. She felled the first two easily, and she was struggling with the third one when -

Ichigo arced out in a kick from the side and he fell over.

“Ichigo! You were supposed to stay back!” Tatsuki snapped.

“Hell no! Like I’d ever let you fight alone!” said Ichigo intently. 

She and Tatsuki tag teamed against the remaining two thugs, and they were winning, but one pulled out a knife. They paused. He smirked and backed them up against the wall leading to the river, the other guy behind him.

 “Now,” the thug began, “what should I do with the two of y -?” 

Then he was picked up bodily from behind, and tossed down the hill into the river with a splash. And he was not a small guy. Ichigo and Tatsuki looked up - and up, in disbelief.

A giant of a boy was standing there, in their school uniform. He had dark skin, messy brown hair, and brown eyes. “Yasutora Sado,” he said stoically. “Nice to meet you.”

Ichigo suddenly arced out in a kick, glaring in annoyance, and felled the remaining boy who’d been trying to sneak up behind Yasutora Sado. Sado looked around in surprise. “... He probably wouldn’t have been able to hurt me,” he said. “But thanks.”

“Sado... sounds kind of like the Western name Chad,” said Ichigo thoughtfully. “You mind if I call you Chad from now on?”

“Ichigo, you can’t just give people a new name -” Tatsuki began in exasperation, but Sado interrupted.

“I am fine with it,” he said.

Ichigo beamed. “Good!” she said. Chad gazed into her face for a moment and then nodded. They ended up walking to school together, and learned that Chad was half Mexican. He’d just moved back to Japan after his abuelo had died in Mexico.

So Chad became a distant friend, but then one day walking to school Ichigo and Tatsuki heard shouts and kicks. They ran into the alleyway - and found Chad standing there stoically, backed up against a wall, as the five thugs beat and kicked on him alone. He would not lift a finger to help himself.

Ichigo coldly picked up a fallen cell phone. “Hello, 911? I need -”

The thugs whirled around and snickered. “She’s calling the police for herself and her friends -?”

Then Ichigo began counting thugs. “I need one, two, three, four, five ambulances at 6th and 36th please.” She dropped the cell phone and crushed it under her foot.

Tatsuki, Ichigo, and Chad defeated the thugs together once more, though Chad would only get involved in the fight once the two girls were threatened.

“Why wouldn’t you fight for yourself?” Tatsuki demanded after it was all over. “Those idiots were beating the crap out of you!”

“I promised my abuelo long ago,” said Chad softly, “that I would only raise my fists in defense of others.”

Ichigo stared at him sympathetically for a long moment. “Then we’ll fight for you,” she said unexpectedly. “And you can fight for us. We’ll fight for each other - together. Deal?”

Chad and Tatsuki turned around in surprise. Then they smiled. “Deal.”

And so a pact was formed.

They went to school that day, and each brought their separate friends group together: Chad brought in Mizuiro and Keigo, while Ichigo and Tatsuki brought in Orihime, Mahana, Michiru, Chizuru, and Ryou.

The two groups stared at each other across the distance for a moment, and then smiled and came together.

“I think I could get used to this,” said Ichigo, watching all of her new friends, the big group, chatter amongst themselves. Then she laughed and ran forward to save Chizuru and Tatsuki from murdering Keigo for being a pervert.

-

Despite how much she didn’t want to, Ichigo began to see ghosts clearer and clearer as the years passed. They began finding her, coming to her, asking her for help.

“You shouldn’t spurn your gift,” said her mother gently - her mother was her greatest advisor and helper; they assisted each other through living alone together. “You may be alive, Ichigo, but your greatest connection is to the dead. You should embrace that. I know it’s what your father would have wanted.”

Ichigo paused, and looked down somberly, remembering her father who always made her laugh. “Okay,” she said quietly, nodding.

So Ichigo began assisting ghosts, helping them find peace. She also began volunteering and counseling at her mother’s hospital workplace, working with the bereaved and the dying.

She would comfort the dying, offering sympathy, and save the dead, offering peace and serenity. Ichigo found the job rewarding - helping people, especially through death, became her calling.

-

Ochi-sensei, their head teacher, stood in front of their class on Ichigo’s first day of high school. “The school and your classmates would like to know more about you,” she said. “So please fill out these forms. You can turn them in at the box by the extracurriculars fair tomorrow.”

Ichigo sat on her bed that night, looking around her bedroom. There was a checkered red blanket on her bed, band posters on the walls, a desk scattered with doodles and poetry, and bookshelves stuffed with books. A guitar leaned in a corner.

She pushed a strand of wavy curls back into her bun, and looked down at the form.

“My favorite foods are spicy food and chocolate,” she began, scribbling. “I love classic rock music, poetry, books, horror movies, mystery shows, and I can play the guitar. I have a particular interest in Shakespeare.”

The next day, she walked into school, turning the form in at the box and looked around herself. The hall was filled with various tables holding different student activities. Freshmen were going around, signing up for different things. Ichigo could see Tatsuki at the student disciplinary committee table, and she knew Tatsuki would also sign up for karate club. Chad signed up for music, and for animal shelter volunteering. Keigo and Mizuiro signed up for everything. Chizuru, a proud lesbian, was at the LGBTQ and feminist tables. Orihime, a sweet and daydreamy girl with a passion for standup comedy and long printed skirts and an eccentric taste in food, was at the table for student health counselors.

But what would she want to do...?

Ichigo signed up for karate club first, because that was easiest, and for book club and a writer’s club. She wandered along the tables, looking at different things... Kendo club caught her eye. She’d always wanted to learn swordsmanship.

She went to sign up, and a voice said, “Hey. You’re Keigo’s friend, right?”

Ichigo looked up in surprise. A tall girl with a ponytail was standing there. “Hey. You’re Mizuho,” she said. “Keigo’s older sister.”

“That’s right. I head kendo club.” Mizuho smiled at her surprise. “Girls can head fight clubs just as well as guys, you know. Sorry about my brother. He’s a dork.”

Ichigo snorted and smiled. “But he’s an endearing dork,” she said in cheerful amusement. They looked over and saw Keigo shouting and gesticulating about something. “... Most of the time.”

They chuckled.

“Well, Kurosaki.” Mizuho clapped her on the shoulder. “I always like a girl who’s a fighter. I’ll see you in kendo.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Ichigo, determined. “A fighter, I definitely am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we arrive at canon.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

The portal closed, the shoji screens sliding across and disappearing. Black Hell butterflies fluttered around them in the moonlight as they stood floating there in the air over Tokyo city, Karakura district. Both had hands resting deceptively casually on their swords.

“Why they had to send both of us, I have no idea,” Captain Hitsugaya muttered. 

He was a teenage boy with artfully messy white hair and brilliant green eyes, handsome enough to warrant a plethora of gifts from secret admirers every Valentine’s Day that always both puzzled him and made him skeptical. It was his reputation as a “genius,” he thought, that made it that way, his powerful zanpakutoh and his penchant for icy reserve. Surface things. He was content alone. He didn’t interact with people much outside of Vice Captain Matsumoto and his grandmother back in the Rukongai.

“Ten Shinigami so far have been killed. The Hollows are increasingly larger and the trail leads here,” said Captain Kuchiki simply.

He was a man who looked, in living world standards, in his late twenties or early thirties. (He was of course, in reality, centuries old.) He was tall with long black hair and pale, sharp, aristocratic features. He wore a Kuchiki noble’s hair ornaments and a scarf that cost more than ten Seireitei mansions put together. Many nobles had vied for his hand in an arranged marriage since his wife’s death, but he had chosen no one. He ignored his adopted sister Rukia, mostly out of a sense of personal pain since she looked so much like Hisana, and he only interacted with her old Rukongai friend Vice Captain Abarai because he had to. He’d felt it his duty to request the boy. He was head of his clan, but a cold and distant one, dignified.

Both wore Captain’s cloaks, and both were admired and feared for their reserve and their talent, but they had another similarity - both were, somewhat by choice, almost completely alone. Each carried their own separate guilts.

“I still don’t see why they couldn’t have sent my Vice Captain with me,” said Captain Hitsugaya, sounding slightly irritated. “No offense, Kuchiki-taicho, I defer to your expertise, but I just don’t see the point of sending us together.”

“The Council has made up its mind and we must follow it,” said Captain Kuchiki softly. “In any case, we have more important things to worry about. Sense the air.”

“I know. I felt it the moment we arrived. The spiritual concentration here is amazing,” said Captain Hitsugaya seriously, frowning. “That must be why Hollows are descending on this area.

“So if we find the main hub of spiritual activity -”

“We predict where the Hollows will land,” said Kuchiki, nodding. “And from there, we destroy them.”

In a moment they were gone, flash-stepping away. They wanted the mission to be done with as quickly as possible, preferably within a 24-hour period.

It would not turn out to be that simple.

-

The teenage girl, beautiful and in a tight high school uniform, bent over the ruined offering to the little dead girl with her face in her hands, crying delicately and artfully. “It’s ruined - it’s ruined -” she sobbed.

The skateboarders who had smashed into the offering accidentally in the alleyway started to feel genuinely bad. “Hey, don’t cry, we -” one of the men said, getting close and bending over towards her -

Suddenly, a foot arced out and smashed into his face; he fell over, unconscious. As the thugs stood there, stunned, the girl flashed out in a series of moves and within five seconds they were all down in various states of pain. She grabbed the leader by the throat and slammed him up against a wall, her face twisting viciously. He choked, his eyes blinking open and watering.

“Wake up!” Kurosaki Ichigo spat. She hadn’t been crying at all. She leaned closer into the guy’s face and hissed, “You and your goons have been messing around in here every afternoon for exactly five days, ruining things, including my offerings to the dead girl, leaving graffiti and broken beer bottles, causing ruckus and noise.

“Well, I’ve got news for you. You ever come here again and I will know, I will know you little fucker, and I’ll cut your dick off and put it on your head for a hat. You got me?”

He said nothing and she kicked him in the groin. He moaned, bending over.

“I said you got me?!” she shrieked. The other thugs were backing away from her slowly and fearfully along the ground.

“I got you - I got you -” the leader choked, his face turning purple from lack of air, his nose bleeding. Ichigo released him, hands on her hips, as he fell to his knees below her.

“Keep visiting this place and people will be bringing you flowers,” she said flatly. “I hope I’ve made my point. Later days, gentlemen,” she added with mocking sweetness, curtsying, and she marched out of the alleyway. They gaped after her.

As she took up her hidden book bag again, the ghost of the little girl came floating down behind her. “Thank you, Onee-chan. Now I can rest peacefully.” The little girl smiled. 

“No problem. I’ll bring fresh flowers soon and clean the alleyway up for you. Be at peace,” said Ichigo, quiet. She hadn’t meant what she’d said. Scare tactics could be very effective, but at heart Ichigo was gentle.

-

Ichigo walked up to her apartment doorway, and paused. “Hey, man,” she said, waving casually to the ghost of the older businessman she saw floating there. “Exorcism is closed for the night. Follow me to school tomorrow and after extracurriculars, exorcism will open back up. I’m free tomorrow after extracurriculars, so it’s your lucky day.

“Have good a night.” Ichigo went past him casually and opened the front door.

She walked into the apartment she shared with her mother, who looked up from the kitchen table. “I ate ahead, but I kept dinner warm for you,” said her mother, nodding to the microwave.

“Thanks,” said Ichigo, putting down her book bag, opening up her microwave and grabbing the food.

“Helping the dead again?” Mom asked as Ichigo sat down beside her.

“Yeah. Mrs Ohara at the hospital needed some counseling through leaving her grandchildren behind,” said Ichigo stoically.

“Cancer?” her mother guessed.

“That’s the one.” Ichigo nodded. “Then that little girl I told you about needed me to get rid of some punks bothering her final resting place.”

“What did you do?” Masaki frowned.

Ichigo smirked. “Heh. Beat the crap out of them and threatened to cut some guy’s dick off.”

“Just as long as you don’t actually cut anybody’s dick off,” said her mother, sighing and shaking her head. “Sometimes, I swear, you remind me far too much of your father and his side of the family.”

Ichigo smiled and looked sadly over at the shrine. “I still have to burn my incense and say my prayers for the week,” she reminded herself absently.

“Well, you’ve been busy, I’m sure he’s not worried,” said Masaki. “You know your father, he was always very easygoing with us.”

“Come on, Mom, you know he never became a ghost. Some don’t,” said Ichigo.

“Just because you can see ghosts, Ichigo, doesn’t mean you know it all about death. How can you be sure he can’t sense us?” her mother scolded her gently.

Ichigo shrugged, frowning down at her food as she chewed.

Masaki decided a change of subject was in order. “I know your extracurriculars are keeping you very busy. I can’t even keep track of them all,” she said in amusement. “Or of all your friends. It’s a good thing. You make the most of the time you have. What was it again today?”

“Lunch with the usual crew,” said Ichigo. “Then book club, and kendo club with Mizuho. Writer’s club and karate club are Tuesday-Thursday.”

“Ah. How is kendo going?” said Masaki, nodding. “I took archery in school, so I know nothing about it.” She smiled cheerfully.

Ichigo’s Mom had never tried to force her own hobbies onto Ichigo. Ichigo appreciated it. “I’m getting into the more advanced stuff now,” said Ichigo. “Mizuho said I’m progressing really nicely. Anyway, I have to go. Homework.” She stood up from the table and grabbed her book bag.

“Study hard!” her mother called as Ichigo retreated into her room.

Ichigo took out her notebooks and sat cross-legged on her bed, chewing on a pencil as she studied. But then something happened to make her look up - something very unexpected.

A black swallowtail butterfly fluttered through her bedroom wall and past her head.

“What the hell -?” she began in bewilderment. And then two guys in black samurai gear with real katana swords floated through her bedroom wall after the butterfly, and ghost butterflies became the least of her problems.

They floated downward until they touched the floor. The white-haired one looked to the black-haired one. “We’re near the epicenter,” he observed seriously.

Whatever that meant.

Ichigo walked up to them, stuck her face into theirs, and observed them closely. “Huh, weird,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ve never seen ghosts like you before. Where are your chains? And why aren’t you transparent? And... uh... what’s with the swords?” She looked puzzled.

“They’re called zanpakutoh,” said the white-haired one automatically, but they were both staring at her, caught off-guard.

“... Captain Hitsugaya,” said the black-haired one into the quiet, “I think we have found the source of the spiritual presence.”

“Indeed, Captain Kuchiki.”

“Captains? Spiritual presence?” Ichigo raised a puzzled eyebrow. 

“It is none of your business, human,” said Kuchiki distastefully. “Stay out of our way and we shall protect you.”

Ichigo scowled, instinctively disliking the tone of command. “Protect me from what? And what’s with the whole ‘human’ thing? You look pretty human to me.” She eyed him up and down.

Kuchiki made a sudden move so fast she couldn’t even track it, as did Hitsugaya. In a flash of half a second, Hitsugaya was blocking Kuchiki from making a move to attack her. “... Provisional spirit law forbids unauthorized executions,” Hitsugaya reminded Kuchiki cautiously.

The fire in Kuchiki’s eyes faded; he paused and straightened coldly. “... Yes,” he said softly, eyeing Ichigo with intense dislike. “Of course. My apologies.”

Hitsugaya glared over at Ichigo. “Look, all this is all a little above your head. I suggest you stay out of our way,” he said seriously.

“What, so you just invade my home and I don’t even get an explanation?” Ichigo challenged. “Some moral stand for guys who are wearing outfits showing off the paramount of honor.” She glared back, refusing to be fazed.

At this, at last, they paused.

“You’re dead,” said Ichigo searchingly. “... Right?”

They paused, and Hitsugaya sighed. “Yes,” he said resignedly. “Technically. We are spirits that come to ferry dead souls to the afterlife. We are called Shinigami.”

-

The Hollow lifted its head from feasting on the blood of the dead little ghost girl. She lay still, her insides ripped open. She smelled delicious, but did not taste like much - it was not her the Hollow was after.

It was someone she had come into contact with recently.

“It’s close...” the Hollow whispered, sniffing the air. “With... Shinigami...”

-

The human girl had a great deal of questions, as Byakuya had dreaded. The minute she heard about the Soul Society, she wanted to know everything: about life, death, reincarnation, and Shinigami patrol routes, paperwork, and missions. Things Toshiro and (privately) Byakuya had always found commonplace and dreadfully dull.

But it was all new to her. She leaned forward on her bed, eyes lit up in interest, and to their mutual surprise - Byakuya’s somewhat greater as a Soul Society noble’s - she actually asked intelligent questions. Perhaps this particular human had been gifted with greater intellect as well as greater spiritual presence.

Hitsugaya Toshiro seemed to enjoy explaining things seriously and with enormous drama, so Byakuya left him to it and wandered around the room, looking to the walls, looking for things, anything, something that could explain why some human girl could see two Shinigami Captains.

He paused at her desk. “... You write poetry,” he said, expressionless.

Hitsugaya and the human girl paused and turned to him in surprise.

“Oh.” The girl smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. That’s me.” She stood up, long, slender legs unfolding, and she went over to her desk. “Kurosaki Ichigo. Ichigo. That’s my name.” She noticed him reading some of it, and nervously slid the poetry underneath a folder. “It’s, uh - it’s not that good.”

He was reminded strongly of Hisana. She, too, some commoner, had been a great deal more intelligent than many a stuffy noble he had known. And she, too, had been ashamed of her work. Perhaps it was the doom of an artist to forever be self conscious of one’s own endeavors. It certainly was in Byakuya’s experience.

“I highly doubt that,” he said, and she was surprised by how gentle and understanding he seemed for a moment. “It is not the first time a poet has told me such a thing. It was not true then either. You should own your own work.”

She blushed, but smiled. He was nicer than he’d first seemed, but that old-fashioned Soul Society thing Hitsugaya had told her about really hit home with Kuchiki.

“... You read?” She turned around. Hitsugaya was wandering along the bookshelves. “Oh. Yeah!” She ran over to him and pointed upward brightly. “That’s pre recorded music - that’s my instrument over there in the corner. That’s movies and TV - a kind of pre recorded theater. And those are my books! I have - too many.” 

“Cultured,” Byakuya observed thoughtfully. “I did not know humans had such things.” But Toshiro was focused on something else. He’d wandered over to a framed photograph on the wall of a young Ichigo, big eyed.

“... That’s you?” There was something indefinable in his voice.

“Yeah. I think I’m seven in that picture.” She walked over to stand next to him and looked into it, trying to see what he found so fascinating.

Toshiro thought it was like looking into a memory. Take away the pretty orange curls and replace them with straight chocolate brown hair, and it might as well have been an exact replica of Momo. Sweet innocent smile, pigtails - she was even reading a book.

“Ichigo, seven years old,” said calligraphic lettering at the bottom of the photo. The handwriting looked familiar, but Toshiro couldn’t place from where.

“What do you like to do?”

“What?” He turned to look at her, confused.

“You’ve learned about my hobbies. What about you two?” She turned to the two men.

“Eating. Sleeping. Visiting family and friends back in my hometown,” said Toshiro puzzled.

“Oh, come on, you must have something.”

“... Games,” he admitted. “I like gaming.”

Ichigo beamed. “I really do have to introduce you to video games. And you.” She turned to Byakuya, eyebrows lifted. “What do you like to do?”

She sounded somewhat insolent, and he wasn’t sure he liked the idea of being in the middle of a pow wow between a human and someone from the Rukongai, but he was so caught off guard that he answered anyway. “Peaceful things. Walks, calligraphy, meditation, reading.”

“Shinigami do have hobbies. Nice to know. So... look... I have to ask...” They turned to her. “How do I know you all are telling the truth, or that you’re not just crazy?” She shrugged. “I mean, you have to see how it looks. Some bizarre looking ghosts come in here and tell me they’re almighty Shinigami Captains from another world. It sounds -”

“Implausible to someone only familiar with humans,” Byakuya realized, frowning.

Toshiro flew out a hand and Ichigo fell to the ground paralyzed. Byakuya gave him an exasperated look. “What?” said Toshiro. “She wanted proof!”

“What the hell is this?!” Ichigo demanded, struggling.

“Kido,” said Toshiro, shrugging. “They’re high level spells only a Shinigami can cast. We use them alongside our zanpakutoh to fight Hollows. I figured the easiest way to show you proof was by using a kido spell.”

“There’s also this.” Byakuya unsheathed his sword - and put the hilt to the forehead of the ghost of the old businessman. He’d come in so quietly, Ichigo hadn’t known he was there.

“P-please - I don’t want to go to Hell -” the man pleaded.

“What awaits you is not Hell. It is the Soul Society,” said Captain Kuchiki, observed, removing the blade and revealing a glowing blue “RELEASED” stamp in its place.

The ghost turned to Ichigo, the only sane looking one, in bewilderment.

“You’re going the other way,” she clarified. He looked relieved as he dissolved into a little blue dot. A black - Hell butterfly, Hitsugaya had called them? - carried the soul up through the ceiling and into the beyond.

“The other way?” Hitsugaya and Kuchiki were staring at her, puzzled.

“Humans used to believe that good souls lived on clouds in the sky and bad souls lived in a pit of fire below the ground. We weren’t always as cultured as we are now. In the twenty first century most people don’t believe souls exist at all,” said Ichigo, matter of factly and with some amount of sarcasm. “So... you’re all real, huh?” she mused. “... Do you think my Dad could be up there with you guys? He died a few years back... he never became a ghost.”

Kuchiki and Hitsugaya shared a look she couldn’t identify and then gazed at her in sympathy. “... Perhaps,” said Hitsugaya at last.

“So.” Ichigo shoved herself upright with her arms and legs still bound tightly together. “What?” she said when they stared at her. “You guys look at me funny a lot.”

“... How...” said Hitsugaya in a kind of disbelieved pain, “... are you moving... under a Captain’s binding spell?”

“Uh.” Ichigo looked down at herself, puzzled. “I just stood up.” She looked back up at them, confused.

“You just... stood up,” Kuchiki repeated slowly.

Ichigo blushed. “Well it sounds kinda stupid when you say it,” she muttered. Then she shuddered to a halt, looking up and paling, eyes widening. The look bothered both of them more than either of them cared to admit.

“... What is it?” said Toshiro, tensing.

“That horrible, piercing howl,” said Ichigo, sounding shaken. “Isn’t that what you’re looking for?”

Kuchiki and Hitsugaya paused. “I hear nothing,” said Byakuya seriously. “But now that you mention it... it’s like something’s blocking me.”

Then there was a shake in the room beside theirs and a high pitched female scream. “Mom!” Ichigo screamed, and before they could stop her, she’d broken free of the gold binding spell in a surge of energy and run stupidly into the room beside theirs. Stupid - but brave.

The minute she moved away from them, the block dropped and the Hollow reappeared on their sensing radar. “The Hollow was right beside us and we didn’t even realize it?!” Hitsugaya snapped, frustrated.

“Never mind that, the girl -!” Byakuya began alarmed.

“It’s going to kill her,” they realized as one.

They speed-stepped into the room just in time to stop the Hollow from eating Ichigo. She had charged out there, pushed her Mom out of the way and leaped in front of her, and Toshiro cut off the Hollow’s hand just as it was reaching out to grab Ichigo.

“Mom!” Ichigo turned to her mother as the two Shinigami went to stand in front of her. “You have to run,” she said urgently. “Just trust me, and run.”

“But Ichigo, your father -!” her mother began, alarmed.

“Never mind that, just RUN!” Ichigo shouted. Her mother fell backward, slammed out the door, and started running. The Hollow didn’t move to chase her.

“Why isn’t it following her?!” Ichigo asked, confused.

“Because Hollows are attracted to souls with high levels of spirit energy - souls that can see Shinigami, and break binding spells, and block the senses of a Captain,” said Byakuya seriously. “Souls like yours.”

Hitsugaya scowled.

“So wait... it’s attacking places I go and my friends and family... because it’s looking for me?” They turned around. Ichigo’s eyes were big and guilty.

“... Do not think on it,” said Toshiro, strangely ashamed, thinking of having to leave his grandmother. “Many souls with high levels of reiatsu are burdened with endangering the people around them until they gain control over their power.”

“It is considered among our people a glorious burden,” said Byakuya quietly.

Then: “... I thought you said your father was dead,” said Toshiro.

Ichigo frowned. “What do you mean -?’

“Your mother mentioned your father. Where is he?”

“Oh, she was talking about his shrine,” said Ichigo, relaxing. “It’s over there.” She pointed. They turned around - and their eyes fixed in disbelief on the photo.

That was an exiled Shinigami noble. That was Toshiro’s ex Captain - Shiba Isshin. The handwriting on the photo of a child Ichigo... that was why it had looked familiar.

And Ichigo’s mother was obviously a human. Why he’d never returned.

They turned back around to Ichigo in disbelief. “That’s your father -?”

“SHINIGAMI!” Ichigo screamed, but it was too late. They’d stopped guarding their flank. Their eyes widened in a rare show of surprise as the Hollow crept up behind them and slammed a claw into them. They crumpled into the side of the apartment and were temporarily knocked out.

-

They groaned and blinked their eyes open... to find Ichigo standing in front of them. She was talking, though she didn’t know they could hear.

“It’s okay. It’s my fault my father died. I ran into a street full of cars, chasing a ghost, and he ran after me... All I ever was is a burden to the people around me, back then. Seems that hasn’t changed. The longer I’m alive... the more Hollows will attack the people I love.” She smiled bittersweetly.

Both were affected by the speech in different ways. Her talk of being a burden on her family affected Byakuya. Her talk of her powers giving her a guilt complex affected Toshiro.

Then it happened. The Hollow turned back, and flew out toward her, jaw opened to attack her.

“... Perhaps I deserve to go this way,” she whispered, and she threw her arms out on either side of her, steeling herself in a stance. Prepared to sacrifice herself for them, and for everyone else she knew.

Byakuya was reminded of Hisana, her words coming back to him. Her stance, her protectiveness, its reminiscence to Hinamori... that was what got to Toshiro.

“NO!” Both of them shouted it, both of them threw themselves in front of her, neither aware of what the other was doing - The Hollow crunched around their forms instead.

And then - they registered it through the blood and the pain - this was how powerful Ichigo was. It had two Shinigami Captains in its mouth, and it spat them back out and retreated, wounded from their sword strikes, because they were not Ichigo.

-

Ichigo stared down at the two Shinigami bleeding to death below her. “You should have let me die,” she whispered. “It would have made more sense that way.”

“Foolish human!” Kuchiki spat, looking very irritated at having to die at the hands of such a mediocre Hollow.

“Is it despair for you, then?” Hitsugaya challenged, raising an eyebrow, still with authority even from a prone position on the floor.

“Well how would you like me to feel now? Clearly you two can no longer fight,” said Ichigo, frowning. Kuchiki and Hitsugaya both tried to stand up - and collapsed back down.

“Shit!” Hitsugaya suddenly spat, breaking his cool just for a split second.

“So.” Ichigo smiled softly. “We die together then. I’ll go first -” She made to step forward, and Toshiro grabbed her foot.

“You most certainly will not be going first,” said Byakuya, suddenly severe. He and Toshiro paused - and looked at each other.

“There are two of us,” said Toshiro. “It would work.”

“No,” was the first, unusually ineloquent word out of Byakuya’s mouth.

“What do you mean?” said Ichigo, puzzled, looking from one to the other.

Toshiro sighed and looked at her. “It would take two men... to transfer their Shinigami powers temporarily to one woman,” he admitted reluctantly. “It makes sense. You, at least, are uninjured.”

“But for two Captains to debase themselves so far...” said Byakuya distastefully. Then he looked up at her - and his expression changed for a moment. “Let’s do it,” he said, determined. Senbonzakura was protesting, and he knew Hyourinmaru must be doing the same... But Toshiro was the one who had suggested it, after all.

They weren’t doing it to save themselves. Damn themselves. They were just doing it to save some human girl. But, he thought back to her father and her resemblance to Hisana... She wasn’t just some stupid human girl. And he knew, looking at her, that she was only agreeing to it for the chance to save them. He would respect the full repayment of a debt, but he’d already begun to guess that was just how Kurosaki Ichigo was.

Maybe it was a Shiba thing.

They each sat up, and Ichigo got between them. Byakuya was behind her, Toshiro facing her. “So how does this work?” she asked, sounding nervous. The Hollow was slowly healing itself nearby...

“We stab you,” said Toshiro flatly. She looked more anxious and he winced. His Captain’s half human daughter, the girl who had leaned forward with such a bright, curious light in her eyes as she asked to learn about Shinigami from him, the girl who had once so resembled Momo... He didn’t know if he could do it. Stab her.

Ichigo smiled through her fear. “Don’t worry,” she said to him. “One way or another... We’re all going to the same place.” Toshiro saw Byakuya give Ichigo a gentle look that was definitely not entirely befitting of a noble. He was almost irritated at the both of them - falling all over Captain Shiba’s daughter. “I should know your full names - you know, considering you’re about to kill me and all.” Kurosaki Ichigo smiled.

“... Hitsugaya Toshiro.”

“Kuchiki Byakuya.”

“Excellent.” She was brisk and all business. “Now, how do I heal you two?”

They glanced at each other. “Imagine us being healed as the transfer process is complete,” said Toshiro at last, cautiously. “Your reiatsu should do the rest.”

“But you should really focus on -” Byakuya began.

“Oh, just stab me already,” she said, annoyed.

Toshiro and Byakuya looked at each other one last time - each disbelieving as to what they were about to do. “First time I’ve ever heard anyone say that,” said Toshiro, and their swords flashed out as one, stabbing her from the front and behind.

Hyourinmaru and Senbonzakura, far less kind than their wielders, pounced, ready to devour the fledging soul whole... There was a chance the human would not survive the process. They hadn’t told her that.

But what both zanpakutoh encountered was something that, if possible, was even more powerful than them.

Toshiro and Byakuya both felt every last drop of power suddenly sucked out of them by an unstoppable force, and then in an explosion of energy Ichigo’s soul flew out of her body and landed - in full Shinigami uniform, with an insanely large asauchi for a rookie - in front of the Hollow. Far from looking pained, she looked deadly serious, almost fearsome.

“Aim for the head!” Toshiro shouted, and in a single clean kendo stroke Ichigo leaped upward, tore her zanpakutoh through the Hollow’s head, and destroyed it. She landed on her living room floor - and turned to look at them, sheathing the sword.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she passed out.

“Shit!” They stumbled to their feet and ran over to her, rolled her onto her back... She was completely unconscious.

“Her soul is still adjusting,” said Byakuya, looking at its uneven edges. “That is why she passed out.”

They looked from her body - to her new Shinigami soul - to each other. Both were in white under robes, and sure enough, Ichigo had healed them both, as promised. “Can you feel...?”

“... No.” Toshiro looked downward. “I can’t feel Hyourinmaru at all.”

“... Damnit.” Byakuya’s face twisted.

“I take it you can’t feel Senbonzakura anymore either,” said Toshiro flatly. He winced. “... How long will it take for our powers to return?” 

“Months,” said Byakuya desolately.

There was a horrified silence.

“We broke the biggest law on the books,” Toshiro whispered disbelievingly. “We’re traitors. We could be executed.” For a moment, he looked very young.

“I am aware of that,” said Byakuya, sitting backward in exhaustion and irritation. It hadn’t really hit him yet.

“Well, look what we have here.” They whirled around. A man was standing there in a boat hat and clogs, Masaki’s body over his shoulder.

“Who the hell is that?” said Toshiro, tensing.

Byakuya’s face twisted. “Urahara Kisuke. A Captain class traitor whom I’m sure you’ll have heard of.” They both reached for zanpakutoh - that weren’t there.

A smile passed over Urahara Kisuke’s place. “Ah, but I believe you two have just reached the same dishonorable status,” he said. “And I’m a Shinigami equipment black market salesman who resides in Karakura, and that girl needs your help. Just how picky can you afford to be?” 

“That speech sounds canned,” said Toshiro suspiciously.

“It should,” said Urahara, setting the unconscious Masaki down. “I gave it to your Captain.” He said it so matter of factly.

Toshiro would have attacked him - but over what? And with what?

-

“What an interesting choice, Aizen Sousuke,” said Urahara, breaking the Hogyoku in half in his laboratory that night. One piece went inside Hitsugaya’s gigai, one inside Kuchiki’s. “Now here’s my answer.”

He briefly considered that he was ruining both men’s lives. But he figured Aizen had already done that.

-

Fitting into his new gigai, Byakuya dressed in fancy clothes - button up shirts, nice dress pants. He refused to let go of his remaining dignity.

But... in his private dressing room, he slowly took out his hair ornaments, one by one. They were a sign of noble status, and he had just lost that in spectacular fashion. 

As he calmly put his black hair up into a ponytail, tucking the scarf around himself and getting into a dark button up coat, he considered that he had broken one of the last things remaining to him - his promise of proper decorum to the graves of his parents.

-

Toshiro had his own thoughts fitting into his new gigai - black skinny jeans, nice dark collared shirts. 

His Captain’s cloak was gone. He didn’t even have anything to take off, it had just... disappeared. The rank he had been so proud of, worked so hard for, the rank that had forced everyone to take him seriously - it was gone.

He hoped his grandmother never heard about this - he was the remaining child, and it would destroy her.

But he had the suspicious feeling he hoped in vain.

-

Carrying uniforms, they both walked out into the Urahara Shouten the next morning. 

“She and her mother are all set in their beds at their apartment,” said Urahara. “Her mother’s memory has been wiped, hers has not.

“So.” He gave a mocking smile. “Shall I show you both to your new school?”

They glared helplessly.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

The last thing Ichigo remembered was passing out after being made a Shinigami. She woke to her mother shaking her gently. “Ichigo. Ichigo.”

Ichigo opened her eyes - and the memories came flooding back to her. She sat up straight and gasped. She was in her body, in bed. “Are you okay?!” she asked her Mom urgently.

“I’m fine,” said Masaki soothingly, sitting down beside her daughter. “It was just a bad dream.”

Ichigo let out a deep breath. The horrible monster, the strange supernatural samurai from another world who ferried souls to the land of the dead, putting everyone she knew in danger just by existing near them - it had all simply been a bad dream.

Then she walked out into the kitchen for breakfast and froze. There was still a huge hole in the side of their apartment wall.

“One of the pipes exploded in the middle of the night,” said Masaki casually, seeing her stare. “Isn’t it weird that we didn’t wake up? At least we’re not injured.”

Ichigo forced down breakfast, her eyes still fixed on the hole in the wall. Had it really been a dream at all?

-

Toshiro and Byakuya, in school uniforms, stalked toward Karakura High. With each step, their anger increased. Anger at Kurosaki Ichigo. At their emotional idiocy. At their wounded pride.

“I gave up my powers for a Hollow I could normally have defeated with my eyes closed,” Toshiro muttered grimly. “What the hell happened to me?”

“I was just wondering the same thing,” said Byakuya icily. “That girl we saved is a fool, putting herself in the path of a Shinigami’s work.”

“And now she has our powers.”

It was like the fevered dream of last night had faded, leaving an ordinary reality in its wake. Normally they would have to be wearing heavy limiters to curb their killing intent during anger enough to exist around ordinary humans. Now? People passed by casually in the unfamiliar streets. Nobody noticed them, no second glance was given.

Decades, even centuries of training, wasted.

It would not have been so bad for an ordinary foot soldier. For a Captain it was so much different. It was like the difference between falling off the roof of a house and falling off the top of a skyscraper. The higher you’d soared, the harder the fall.

If they didn’t play their cards very carefully and regain powers fast, they could be in serious trouble for this, they knew. For now, they had to content themselves with making sure that girl carried the duties of a Shinigami. A human - Byakuya had almost refused to help her pretend at being a Shinigami on principle.

Toshiro didn’t know about Kuchiki-taicho, but he himself would be seeking counseling after this was all over with Unohana-taicho. This kind of dangerous slip couldn’t afford to happen again.

They found the correct classroom and found the girl there, surrounded by her friends. Two, a boy and a girl, had just cried out and flown at her in relief, shouting that she was alive - rumors of a strange explosion in the Kurosaki quarters must have spread. Those two then tried feel up their friend - “Keigo” and “Chizuru” they were called - while hugging her, and a third girl (“Tatsuki”) punched them away.

Ichigo was standing there, smiling in uneasy amusement, seemingly without a care in the world. She was very pretty when she smiled, which mostly just made her more irritating.

“Kurosaki.” Ichigo looked around, and her amber brown eyes widened. Byakuya was standing there in utter contempt. Toshiro was bored, his arms crossed. “We’re new students,” Toshiro forced out. “We need to borrow your books until we have our own.”

It was code. He wasn’t sure how much of it she understood, but she turned to her friends with a bright smile. “I’ll be right back!” she said. “I’m just going to show the new kids around the place!”

And that was how a human teenage girl dragged Hitsugaya Toshiro and Kuchiki Byakuya out of her school classroom by the arm. “Let go of me!” Outside the classroom, they yanked themselves from her grip.

Ichigo smiled - it was hard to tell who looked more ruffled and offended, Hitsugaya Toshiro or Kuchiki Byakuya - but she was troubled. Her friends had come by to walk to school with her and seen the wall. She’d arrived at school later on that day and found everyone worried for her safety. It had been emphasized to her over and over again - the hole in the wall. Danger. Danger.

So she was not terribly surprised to find Toshiro and Byakuya standing in front of her in physical bodies, in school uniforms, looking less than enthusiastic to say the least. 

“Follow me,” she said seriously, and led them to an empty courtyard away from the main school building. She turned around to them. “What’s going on?” She crossed her arms.

They blinked. “You don’t... know?” said Toshiro disbelievingly.

“I don’t understand the question.” Byakuya frowned.

“I know that you’re in those gigai Toshiro told me about, and that you’re infiltrating a human place, and that Byakuya looks desperately unhappy about it.” They almost reminded her to use their titles, and then remembered surreally they didn’t have those anymore. “But I don’t know anything else. I don’t... I don’t still have your powers, do I?” She winced.

They glared at her flatly in answer.

“And you’re powerless.”

The glares intensified. 

“Well, shit,” Ichigo said matter of factly.

“Indeed,” said Byakuya dryly, while Toshiro rolled his eyes. “And now, with our help, you must do the job of a Shinigami in our place until our powers return.” Ichigo looked horrified. “That is an inappropriate expression. It should be a great honor to do a Shinigami’s job with the power of two Captains,” he added severely.

“Also this is mostly your fault,” said Toshiro flatly. “If we have to infiltrate among your human friends, the least you can is give us the courtesy of pretending to be a Shinigami -”

“I refuse.”

If they’d still had killing intent, it would be flooding everything within a fifty-mile radius right now. They stared at her in utter disbelief - and then Toshiro exploded.

“We are of one of the highest ranks there is, and we threw our powers away over someone who won’t even do the job of a Shinigami?!” he snarled.

“Tough shit, pipsqueak, you should’ve let me die!” Ichigo snapped. “That was my point all along!”

Toshiro moved to physically attack her in his human body and this time Byakuya was the one to stop him, mostly because he didn’t want to see a former respected Shinigami Captain brought that low. 

He turned to Ichigo coldly. “Why won’t you do it?” His expression was oddly shuttered.

Ichigo took a deep breath. “Because I’m not a hero,” she said. “And I’m not up to facing any more of those monsters. Amazing people do that. Brave people. Strong people. And I’m -” She looked away. “I’m just some fifteen year old human girl,” she muttered. “I’m just... me. I don’t think I’m good enough.

“You... you should have let me die,” she repeated softly. “I wanted to make up for what I’d done to my father. I wanted to die for somebody. I’m good at that.”

“You would die for someone,” said Byakuya, “but you would not fight for them? We have studied your life. Are you not an expert in both hand to hand and sword fighting? Are you not already a fighter?”

Ichigo looked up in surprise. Toshiro and Byakuya gave each other a glance and nodded once; Toshiro was calmer now. 

“Look,” said Toshiro, “you seem to care about the people around you. Won’t they die if you don’t do this job?” 

This physically affected Ichigo; it was obvious. But she still looked torn. They could see it in her.

“Fear and insecurity are not flattering, Kurosaki Ichigo,” said Byakuya smoothly. “I propose a test. Hitsugaya-san, does that not sound like a good idea?” 

Toshiro smirked, putting on a fingerless glove decorated with the skull symbol. “I think it’s an excellent idea, Kuchiki-san,” he said. 

Then he ran his hand into Ichigo’s body and pushed.

-

Ichigo woke up in her Shinigami form, sitting and looking at her body.

“... What are we going to do with my body?” is the first thing she asked, staring at it.

Byakuya picked it up and propped it behind a series of trash cans. “Satisfied?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“... Yeah,” said Ichigo quietly, standing. “You said you had a test for me? I’ll warn you now, I’m not going to pass.”

A strange smile came over their faces.

“It’s this way.”

-

They ended up standing in front of a children’s park, staring at it for... a long time. 

“... What are we waiting for?” said Ichigo at last, frowning in puzzlement.

“Let me put it to you this way,” Toshiro sighed. “Kurosaki-san, all the souls in this park are strangers to you, yes? Outside your usual boundaries?”

“Wait.” Ichigo’s eyes narrowed. Just then, a Hollow burst out from behind the trees, chasing down the crying, screaming soul of a little boy. “Shit!” Ichigo hissed, acting on instinct; she leaped out in front of the boy and cut down through the Hollow’s head and through its body in one stroke.

She whirled around to Toshiro and Byakuya, angry. “What the hell was that supposed to prove?!”

“Kurosaki Ichigo, you just did the hardest part of a Shinigami’s job already,” said Byakuya.

Ichigo paused, her eyes widening.

“And you did it because you wanted to,” said Toshiro searchingly, “yes?”

“Well... yeah. I’m not the kind of asshole who can watch someone in pain and not do anything about it,” said Ichigo, frowning. She thought about it for a while. “Only I can do it, huh?” she asked rhetorically. “And all the people around me will just keep getting eaten if I don’t?”

“... That is correct,” said Toshiro, cautiously.

Ichigo sighed. Walked forward and put out her hand. “Fine,” she said bluntly. “I’ll be a Shinigami until you get your powers back. But I’m doing it because I want to, and because I owe you my life - not because I’m supposed to. Understand the difference?” 

She shook hands with each of them.

“I would never dream,” said Byakuya gently, only somewhat humorous, “of trying to make you do something you didn’t want to, Kurosaki Ichigo.”

The fever dream was back. The sense of security. It existed, they realized, only around Kurosaki Ichigo.

She smiled confidently. “I have one caveat.” Eyebrows were raised in surprise. “We really have to call each other on a first-name basis,” said Ichigo in amusement. “We’re about to get to know each other really well.” She smirked.

Byakuya sighed.

“Oh,” said Toshiro flatly, “great.”


End file.
